Dandelion Summer
by sharkinterviewee
Summary: Starmora drabbles. Love, fluff, humor- all the high points.
1. Chapter 1

And then, when his hands start wandering, "_Peter_."

He pulls back, looking incredibly aroused, but his eyes are filled with concern.

"Sorry, sorry, too far?" He asks, already starting to move away, cause he was so scared of messing this up with her.

The taking things slow approach wasn't exactly his strong suit. The last thing he wants to do is make her uncomfortable.

He starts pulling away even further, but Gamora's arms tighten around him, the hand on the back of his neck increasing its pressure in the firm hold she had on him to keep him where he was. Refusing to release him.

"No," she tells him. "I was just moaning your name."

"Oh." He blinks. "_Oh_."

He thought just now that his name was some sort of warning. But no. That wasn't apprehension, that was _appreciation_. _Oh_.

Deciding that he's taking entirely too long, Gamora threads her fingers in his hair and guides his lips back to hers.

* * *

**AN: So I guess I'm hosting Starmora Week this year (it'll be taking place at the end of September). Head over to starmoraweek2019 on tumblr to see the prompts and guidelines-  
****starmoraweek2019 . tumblr .com**


	2. Chapter 2

She's aware that he probably won't remember this. He's injured, lying in a hospital bed, and drugged up on the best pain medications available. Still.

"Peter, if you ever do something like that again, I will _end_ you, understand?" She asks him, her hands clasping his so tight as she threatens him as menacingly as possible.

"You're cute when you're all worried about my safety 'n stuff," he tells her with a dopey grin.

He is _very_ lucky that Rocket is also in the room, reminding Gamora not to kill him, that he doesn't know what he's saying.

Very, _very_ lucky.


	3. Handles

Gamora isn't quite sure what she's looking at when she walks into the room.

"What are those?" She screws up her face in confusion at what was currently on his body.

Peter turns around, and gives her his most winning smile.

"What? You don't like 'em?"

"I want to know why you've given yourself handles. Are they supposed to be… aesthetic?" Gamora tilted her head to the side, and Peter probably should've been offended at her tone since she clearly thought the were the exact opposite of aesthetically pleasing, but instead, he laughs.

Her face just looked too cute all scrunched up and furrowed brow at his getup.

"Functional," he corrects her, skimming his fingers down stretchy material. "And they're not handles," Peter says, wiggling his thumb under the band and stretching it out towards her before letting it snap back to his shoulder. "They're called suspenders, Gamora. They're an alternative to belts."

Her eyes widen with dawning comprehension, her gaze traveling down to where they were attached to his slacks, noticing the absence of his usual belt.

"And I assure you they're very fancy," he informs her with a smirk.

Gamora rolls her eyes at him transparently trying to lay some of that roguish charm on her.

She closes the distance between them, her hands traveling up to his collar, out to his shoulders, and then down his suspenders, almost investigative, like she was trying to get a feel for them. She tugs on them experimentally, little soft pulls, the elasticity allowing much leeway.

Suddenly, Gamora yanks him forward by the straps, and he stumbles into her, bringing him right into her space, up close and personal. Her lips curve up into a wicked smirk.

"See? Handles."


	4. Chapter 4

Peter holds out their daughter in front of him, like he's trying to get a better look by holding her farther away. He closes one eye, squints the other, turns his head at their five hour old daughter. Like he's trying to discern something.

"What are you doing?" Gamora's holding her hand over her mouth, but her laughter spurts through her fingers at the sight.

He looks utterly absurd.

"I thought she'd be green," he says by way of answer, careful to support their baby girl's head as he shifts her like maybe he'll see a glint of color under the fluorescent lighting. Which he doesn't. He pouts, eyebrows furrowing at the fact they don't have a color shifting baby.

"What's wrong with how she looks?"

"Nothing's wrong with it. Nothing's wrong with her. She's perfect. And like- it's not like I'm disappointed or anything, but I just thought she'd look more like you. I thought she'd have pretty green skin just like her momma. Or like a few shades lighter than you."

He peers at their daughter once more before bringing her back in closer and cradling her in his arms. The warmest smile comes over his face as he stares down at their little girl who looks so much like her father. He wiggles his finger in the palm of her grasping hand, and when she coos up at him he looks like pure joy. Her joy. Peter with their child in his arms- they were both her joy.

"Gimme," she tells him, opening and closing her hands, cause Peter was hogging her.

He laughs, comes back to her side, carefully places their daughter in her arms. Then he pulls up a chair so he can sit right next to her bed, and lays his head on Gamora's shoulder, his hand stroking the soft hair on her head. She was born with a head of black hair and skin just as pale as Peter's. Paler, even.

"I didn't expect my looks to be dominant. I totally thought your greenness would overpower anything my genes had to offer. Look," he holds out his arm, pulling up his sleeve to bear the underside of his arm, "she's even lighter than me. Since her skin hasn't even seen any suns yet. I totally thought your genes would be dominant. I thought she'd be green too. Emerald skin, just like her beautiful mother," he finishes, kissing Gamora on the shoulder. As they both stare lovingly down at their daughter in her arms.

"I like that she looks like you," Gamora smiles, utterly taken with the sweet girl she was holding. "I like how she looks so much like her dad. She looks so much like you." She sighs, leaning her head against him. "She's so beautiful," Gamora whispers, a quiet little wonder filling her up at this newest addition to their family. She isn't even a day old, and Gamora already loves her so much. She knows the same is true for Peter.

He wraps his arm around her, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Yeah, she is," he agrees.

* * *

**Author's note/Disclaimer: while my personal headcannon is soft green starmora babies, the image of Peter holding his little alien newborn up to the light and tilting her like they might have a color shifting baby made me smile too much not to do something with it**


	5. Wake up call

"Well, hello there Mrs. Grumpy face," Peter smiles, trying to pull the covers away from her eyes, but Gamora's fingers scrunch onto them tight, refusing to release their hold.

"That's not my name," she mumbles, her voice still low and rough with sleep, contemplating if violence is worth it this early in the morning. She'd have to pull the blanket off her head to do anything more than wave him off, and that's a compromise she's not willing to make.

* * *

**AN: This actually started out as a rejected fill for starmora week's day 1 prompt _hello_**

**Also- along with being a full time student, I got a new part-time job, so we'll see what gets written and when in terms of posting and updating fics**


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